


Dysfunctional

by bucciaratissun



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucciaratissun/pseuds/bucciaratissun
Summary: You did not stand a chance against an invincible deranged hero who decided to protect you at all costs, but there was still something you could try out.Please consider the tags before reading.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 188





	1. In control

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my second fic in English, and I hope you'll forgive me for any mistakes in the text. I'll try to get better <3
> 
> P.S. And stay safe guys!

You exhaled loudly, closing your eyes and holding wet hands over your face: you had always loved a warm bath in the evening, washing the day away. Feeling your sore muscles finally relax, you smiled a little, lifting the corners of your mouth. Everything began to look a bit better.

It took you another few minutes before you decided to slide in the tub and get under water completely, holding your breath and counting to twenty. You used to do it when you had been studying in the university just because it reminded you of diving into the sea. You couldn’t really afford a trip back then, so you only pathetic option was a bathtub. Though doing this now actually lightened your mood, bringing you back to your university years when everything was so much easier than now.

Suddenly you heard some noise as if someone said something, but it was impossible to catch under water. Shit. Steve.

Before you could even open your eyes, his muscled arms were pulling you up with such force as if he wanted to raise you above his head, shouting and splashing water all around.

“Steve! Steve, it’s ok! I didn’t faint!” It was really heard to make him listen in moments like these, but it wasn’t your first time. “Steve, I’m perfect! Nothing’s wrong!”

“Then why the hell was your head under water?! Do you want to kill yourself?!” 

The man was shaking furiously, his huge arms holding your naked shoulders almost made you yell since it really hurt. Oh God, you shouldn’t have dive in when your bathroom door was unlocked. Now you’d have to have a whole therapy session with Steve again and clean the bathroom too since everything around was wet. 

“Steve!”

You cupped his face, forcing him to look in your eyes and draw closer so you could feel his breath on your wet skin. He was almost crying. Steve probably imagined the worst as he always did when something like this had happened, and it was up to you to shake him from his nightmares and make him feel safe. You felt being very sarcastic about it.

“Listen, you can’t drown in the tub. I just held my breath for a few seconds because I liked to do it when I was younger, you know?” Gently brushing your fingers against his cheek, you came closer and left a brief kiss on his forehead. “I grew up near the sea, remember? I just imagined I was diving. Yes, it’s stupid, I agree, but not dangerous. Nothing is dangerous here.” 

His shoulders were soaked with water once he splashed it all over himself, and now your wet arms added a bit more to make his white t-shirt almost completely see-through. Softly burying your fingers in his blond hair and massaging his scalp, you kissed his nose, watching his eyelashes slightly tremble. Steve Rogers had always been a sucker for any signs of affection, and it honestly made your life a little bit easier considering all those times when he was close to an emotional breakdown. 

It took him a few minutes to eventually calm down after hugging you close to his chest and dropping little kisses to your nose, cheeks and lips. Once his breath became more or less even, you continued to talk in more cheerful manner, lightly pinching him by the ear.

“God, Steve. Your lack of trust really hurts me, you know?” You smiled at him, knowing that he would feel guilty. “Do I look like a psycho who wants to die in the bathtub?”

“No, no.” He said hastily, still not letting you go with his arms around your naked back. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m so sorry. It’s just… when I saw you completely under water, it’s like something snapped… and… I’m sorry. I know you’d never do anything like that. You’ve never done anything dangerous to yourself. Please, forgive me for scaring you and leaving mess everywhere, I promise I’m gonna clean up, so you won’t slip on wet floor.”

You hummed, pressing your palms to his shoulders to stop him. Wet floor was something you cared about the least at the moment.

“Just throw our towels there, I wanted to change them today anyway. Hey, you’re totally wet. Put your clothes to the laundry basket and come here, ok?”

He looked at you, puzzled and a bit shy, as if it wasn’t something he brought you in his house for. In fact, you were really lucky not to be repulsed by him in physical terms: you could stand his touch, how he smelled and tasted. You grow to enjoy the way he made love to you, and, considering your lack of experience, it was a blessing, truly. Otherwise it would be nearly impossible to handle Steve and tolerate his presence.

Looking back to the times when you just woke up in an unknown room with no windows and a locked door, you made quite a progress to stabilize your life with a deranged superhero watching your every step. First week you were crying and trying to shelter yourself from him in the corner of the room he locked you in. It was a living Hell: Steve desperately tried to get close to you, but anything he did caused you to weep and crumple into a ball. You were very lucky he could still comprehend that what he’s doing was wrong: he wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself. Watching Steve trying to persuade himself that you desperately needed him to protect you made you understand that there was still good in him. Your best guess was that after all these years of chasing Hydra and dealing with whatever threatened humanity Steve Rogers, America’s Golden Boy, became emotionally dysfunctional. You had no idea what kind of psychological disorders he had, but you suspected it was much worse than an anxiety.

It took you a week to force yourself to analyze the situation you were in: Steve grew attached to you long before he locked you down. He was watching you. He knew the things you’d never publish on social media or tell someone except your closest friends. He knew where you lived, when you got up from bed or came back from work, he knew your hobbies and your secrets, including your dirty little secrets you’d wish no one ever discovered. God, Steve even sent messages to your family and friends, perfectly copying your own style of writing so that no one would grow worried about your sudden disappearance. You had to face the reality: no matter how “hard to get” you play, he won’t let you go. Fighting superhuman on your own was also out of your to-do list. What could you do to Steven goddamn Rogers, probably the most perfect human being existing today? Or, well, was there anyone at all who was able to harm him? Would it change anything if you’d run away and go straight to police? No. Even if they’d believe some lunatic saying Captain America gone mad, they would be as helpless against him as you were. The only ones able to keep him away from you were Avengers, but why would they do it for you? Because they were heroes? Sure, they were the ones protecting the planet at all costs, but you knew they were aware of Steve’s problems. There was no chance they didn’t figure it out when it was so obvious. Maybe they tried to help but didn’t get anywhere with it and just let him be. In the end, it meant only one thing: they were ready to sacrifice the life of someone else if Steve would stay with Avengers. It was the price you had to pay over the lives Captain America was saving on every mission of his.

You cried hard finally realizing it: your life was shattered. You were the sacrificial lamb no one was going to save. It took you three more days full of weeping and scaring the hell out of Steve to accept facts and took your life into your own hands. If no one was gonna save you, you had to do it yourself.

Maybe Steve was physically invincible, but his mind was something you could try to work with. You were very lucky he wasn’t completely insane. You could mostly predict his reactions or the way he behaved, and it gave you some advantage. 

Being kind to him was hard mostly in the beginning when you allowed Steve to touch you or started talking to him, learning more about the guy with whom you were to spend an eternity with. He was delirious and it took you quite a while to get accustomed to many things, but you dealt with it better than you’d imagined.

“You sure?” Steve took off his t-shirt and brought you back to reality. “I mean, you wanted some time for yourself.”

“Maybe now I want some time with you, cuddle bug,” you laughed, causing him to smile and finally reach his sweatpants, “Don’t tell me you still feel shy about being naked!”

“It’s because the lights are on…”

“Aww, come here, golden boy.”

Watching him undress made you a bit nervous, but you quickly suppressed this feeling and smiled at Steve instead: even if he’d made love to you in the bathroom, you would receive pleasure from it, not pain. There was no reason to be afraid because you had everything under control. 

You gently tapped your fingers on his knee, moving a bit closer to Steve in his giant tube and examining the soft expression on his face. He was happy. You gave him exactly what he needed from you, and that’s why two weeks ago you were allowed to go shopping all alone. Well, he was probably watching you from afar, but just two months ago Steve was afraid to leave you alone in the house. 

“I love you,” he mumbled quietly, catching your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, “I feel like I’m home. I feel _you are my home_.”

It was hard to hold back a sigh. You knew Stockholm syndrome would take place sooner or later, though you did your best to keep you head on straight. Manipulating him was hard because you felt like betraying not only him, but mostly yourself – you did to him what he did to you, just a bit different. It wasn’t right. It was unhealthy, toxic, it made your stomach churn every time you were thinking about it.

“I love you too,” you whispered to him, shutting all those thoughts somewhere at the back of your mind. Not now. Never when you’re so close to him. “I’ve never felt safer than with you, Steve.”

He drew you closer to him, and you put your head on his broad chest, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat. You didn’t want to hurt him. You weren’t going to, you told yourself when Steve quietly caressed your back. You only wanted your freedom back, and you would get it one day. You’d make Steve attend a psychiatrist, you’d be on his side when he’d need you, and one day he’d become better. One day the true Captain America would return, and he’d understand how wrong he had treated you. One day your life would be more like it was before you met him.

One day it would happen.


	2. Sleepless night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, it felt like Steve needed a therapy more than anyone else in the world, but you were not sure you could convince him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I didn't really plan to continue this fic, but here I am with one more little story. Hope you'll enjoy!

Most of the time you did not have any problems with sleep, but, apparently, today something was wrong, and you woke up in the middle of the night for no obvious reason. The bed Steve brought to your shared room was enormous; the mattress made you feel like you were sleeping on a cloud; cozy blanket kept you warm at all times even after you’d be totally frozen slipping into bed. Yet tonight you couldn’t force yourself back to sleep. It felt like something was wrong, but you couldn’t quite put the finger on what. 

Snapping your eyes open, you stared at the bed, looking over huge man leaning on you like a child. Thankfully, he didn’t hug you with those massive hands of his, trapping you and making it impossible to move in bed – you were tossing and turning every night. 

_God bless Steve and his ability to sleep anytime, anywhere_ , you thought to yourself and continued to watch him carefully in his sleep. It was surprising how innocent he looked laying down next to you, his huge scary muscles completely relaxed.

He let his guard down almost after your second week with him. It was a mystery to you: didn’t people like him expect a stab in the back all the time? He was Captain America, for God’s sake. He was fighting Nazis, Hydra, aliens and titans and hell knows who else. Surely, he had to be at least a bit paranoid around people he didn’t know, hadn’t he?

Well, he did _know_ you. Steve spent so much time watching you he could probably believe you’re not able to harm anyone, even your kidnapper. Thinking about that, you imagined how smoothly the knife would slip through his throat while he slept, blood spilling all over your white blanket and bedsheets. Or was poisoning his food a better option? Could he actually die of poisoning?

No. You stopped yourself sharply, keeping your eyes shut and pushing these thoughts away. No, you’d never do that. Even if you could kill Steve, even if the whole nation wouldn’t be after you once you’d do that, you wouldn’t murder him. You have never wanted to take someone’s life, and you won’t think of it now. An image of Steve dying in your hands made tears pricked your eyes.

… something was off. You dropped your eyes to Steve’s blonde head and immediately saw he breathed faster than normal, his shoulders shaking slightly. He either had one of his nightmares or…

“Steve?”

He shifted on the bed uncomfortably, raising his head and meeting your gaze. 

“I’m sorry, honey!” The man distanced himself a bit, guilt all over his face. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Shh, you didn’t wake me. It’s just a coincidence.” You murmured tenderly, inching closer to him and placing a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Throwing your arms around him, you moved a bit higher on the pillow to let him snuggle up to your soft belly, and Steve pressed his face against it eagerly. You felt his warm breath on your skin through the fabric of your tank top. 

“Can’t sleep, dear?”

“No. No, I can’t.” 

It was hard to believe that almighty Captain America, the first superhero humanity ever had, a supersoldier with a glowing reputation, was a cuddle addict like a teenage kid who just started dating. You guessed he missed human touch so much he couldn’t help himself. As a matter of fact, you’d never heard he ever dated anyone, so maybe you were the first one to be so close to him after Steve was defrosted. 

“What’s on your mind?” Delicately tracing you fingers across the top of his head, you quietly waited him to answer. Even if he seemed hesitant, Steve needed to talk, you knew it.  


Few minutes passed before he found strength to speak up. You almost fell back to sleep, enjoying the comfort your bed was offering.

“I know it’s not what you or anyone else want to hear from me…” he sighed, his arms gently stroking yours, “But I’m getting tired of living Captain’s America life. I’m tired of expectations. I’m tired of everyone looking up to me because I am a hero. An invincible soldier. A gladiator fighting for Earth. A giant slayer. A godlike being. People expect me to offer them salvation, but I’m not anyone’s savior.”

You heard his voice cracking and wrapped your arms around his head, the blanket feeling too hot on your skin now.

“Every time I step away from our house I pretend to be someone I’m not. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and it forces me on my knees. I’m not truly loved. I’m not appreciated. And worse, media made me a celebrity like those Hollywood actors: it feels like I’m still dancing can-can in front of everyone. True, people are more respectful this time. They think of me as some glamorous deity, and they worship him. You don’t know how much it scares me to think you might be the same.”

It was a breaking point: you gripped his head and made him look at you, your eyes burrowing into his face wet with tears. Didn’t he know you were never into superheroes? Would he believe you’d rather date Steve Rogers before super serum injection because he was much more… human? Stable? Unintimidating? _Sane?_

“Steve, look at me.” You urged him quietly, looking at his tear stained cheeks and slightly red nose. “Everyone knows fearless Captain America who always does a right thing because he’s flawless. He’s a hero. But I look at the guy who’s pressing his head to my belly because he desperately needs some love. I see a man with so much anxiety he can hardly stay alone in the room. You know…” You voice faded and you gulped, unsure if he could really stomach what you were going to say. “At first it scared me how clingy you are. I didn’t know what to think because it seemed you want to control everything I do.”

His eyes were full of tears again, but Steve was waiting silently for you to finish, and you were grateful, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead. 

“Steve, you’re vulnerable. You’re _human_. And the thing with you is, you play a hero not just in public, but everywhere else. I’m sure you never show your true self except when you’re with me.”

“Hon, but I can’t…” He let out a small sob shifting a bit, and you felt wet fabric of your tank top sticking to your body. “I can’t let myself down in front of all those people. Everyone expects something from me, everyone depends on me and the decisions I make. There’s no room for being vulnerable.”

You sighed, biting your lips. God, it felt like Steve needed a therapy more than anyone else in the world, but you were not sure you could convince him now. Did he trust you to the point he’d listen? Would he become aggressive if you’d point out how unstable he is? There’s no way you could ruin your relationships you had worked so hard for all these weeks. But then again, Steve needed help. You couldn’t sugar coat it. There had to be a way to show him you cared and wanted the best for him, carefully pushing him into the right direction.

Oh. Right. One idea suddenly flashed through your mind, and you gripped Steve’s blonde hair gently.

“You know, we’re more alike than you think.” Finally pushing the blanket away with your other hand, you started drawing circles on the man’s head with your fingernails to make him relax. “Of course, it happened to me on a much smaller scale, but I thought the same as you. If someone depends on you, you can’t show you’re vulnerable. You do your best all the time to help the ones who need you. Then it becomes a habit. You give away all you have and leave yourself empty because people around you need it more than you do. They say they’re thankful, they call you a good person, but they walk away, and you just sit there all alone and feel like an empty shell. Some day it escalates to the point when all you want to do it so wreak havoc. Am I right, Steve?”

You thought there was a glint of insanity in his eyes when America’s Golden Boy moved his head and gazed at you, finally coming to lay on his pillow and being on the same level as you. He finally stopped crying, his face still red, and gently grabbed both of your palms in his big callous hands. It sent shivers down your spine, but you pushed your fear away: you were in control. _You were in control_ , you repeated yourself, licking your sore lips and feeling the bed sheets burn your skin.

“If you won’t stop, one day this feeling will take over you. You’ll hurt the ones you cared for. You already did, didn’t you?” There was something dangerous to his face, and you immediately continued without giving him a chance to answer. “I did too, Steve. Nothing feels worse than this.”

His eyes were burning a hole in your face. The last time you saw him so intense was when he let you out of the house for the first time, accompanying you to the forest. And now Steve was scary and intimidating again, and you wished he wouldn’t say anything so you won’t have to listen to his dangerously low voice. It was diminishing your own courage to speak, tying your tongue, making you feel so small and defenseless against a man you couldn’t fight.

But he spoke up, and there was nothing menacing in his tone. 

“Who did you hurt, sweetheart?”

You suddenly discovered your own face was wet.

“My mother.” You whispered when he reached out to you and softly touched your rosy cheeks. There was a pained expression on Steve’s face, and you felt relief slowly washing over you. “I did something I’ve never should. I wounded her. And thank goodness we had somehow restored our relationships, but she’ll never forget what I’ve done...” 

An uneasy silence settled over the room. Steve tried to hold you against his chest again, but you gently tapped his shoulders to give you a minute. You needed to gather your thoughts and stop whimpering.

“… How could I do something like this to her, Steve? Wasn’t I a perfect daughter, student, worker who always did all she could to help others? Then it hit me that all I’ve ever done was to make myself useful to people because I needed to be praised and loved. This was the reason behind all these selfless acts. I couldn’t stop myself because I still felt no one wanted me, so I reached the point when my desire to be loved turned into aggression and hostility towards others.”

Maybe in the very beginning you weren’t sure it would work, but now you could see how serious and thoughtful Steve turned in a matter of seconds. With his light brows furrowed he bit his lip just like you did a few minutes ago and grabbed his big pillow in his arms. You could swear the core of his problems was not even the pressure Captain America had to perform under, but his own self-esteem. What did he say one day? That he was still just a kid from Brooklyn? Maybe as a boy before the serum he had same issues as you, but his heroic career brought them to a completely new level.

It took Steve a few more minutes to process while you used this time to calm down, soothing yourself. You could see him doubting something as if it was too difficult to agree with you. Steve certainly knew things happening to him weren’t normal, but to listen someone saying it for him made Mr. Always Right feel even more miserable. A part of his mind wanted him to look perfect in your eyes, and it hurt Steve to know he lost his chance when he first cried in front of you. The only good thing was that you apparently felt the same: Steve knew about your family issues when your mother and you stop talking to each other for months, although he never discovered why. What was important now was that you were telling the truth. 

“But what did you do then?” He asked nervously, lowering his gaze and staring at your chest. “What made you change?”

“I asked for help, honey.”

It had been an emotional five minutes, but you didn’t lose you temper, patiently watching how Steve buried his head into his puffy pillow. You were one word away from victory or defeat. Would he lock you down in his basement again? Could he do anything worse than that if you pushed him too much? God, you didn’t want to know. You had always acknowledged the possibility of him killing you, but it never seemed so real before.

When he pushed the pillow aside and slid on white silk sheets closer to you, you used all your strength and self-control not to flinch. Steve’s unreadable expression changed, his eyes pleading and bleary. When he cupped your face in his thick, calloused hands, you felt your heartbeat going erratic.

“Guide me. Help me, please. I don’t know how to get away from all this myself.”

Regardless of how much you restrained yourself, your eyes did not stop watering, forcing you to snuggle up to him and hug his shoulders tightly. Why were you crying? Was it because you finally put your plan in action or because you felt happy he asked you for help? You didn’t want to think about it now, feverishly kissing him on the lips and enjoying the way he responded while caressing your hair.

“I will do as you say. Dear, please tell me you’ll try.” You shuddered at the sound of his voice.

“I’ll try, Steve. I will.”


End file.
